Tea & Tyranny
by acafe Jrpanther
Summary: **UPDATED** Prince Regent has become King and found his equally airheaded Queen. Civil unrest in the colonies sends Blackadder west, placing him at the scene of the Boston Tea Party.


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**TEA & TYRANNY**

by Jrpanther

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**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Blackadder, nor any of the characters in the show itself (Edmund, Baldrick, Percy, George et al). The BBC does. Queen Charlotte, Samuel Adams etc are all historical figures but with my own spin on them. The story is mine. If you want to publish it anywhere, ask me first!

**Author's Note:** This is the beginning of my first Blackadder fanfic. Please don't rake it too harshly over the coals, cause like I said, it's my first try and I'm not English either! I liked Red Witch's idea of bringing Blackadder to actual historical events so I thought I'd do my best with the American Revolution. Somehow in this fic, Edmund ends up at the scene of the Boston Tea Party. In order to keep things as historically accurate as _possible_, Prince Regent has become King and found his airheaded Queen Charlotte. So, this happens far enough in the future for these things to happen, but close enough to our dear colonial Blackadder (III) that the characters look and act the same. Before you say anything, yes, I know the events of Duel & Duality, I just don't care. :-)

~The ship scene was longer than intended as it seems that everyone around here is doing piratey type stories (and they're very good!), I wanted to do something a little different. Unfortunately, I'm concerned it might have come out a little too close to Red Witch's! Unintended, to be sure, haven't looked at Birthday since I reviewed it… if it's too close please let me know.

**_Scene 1._**_ Edmund is sitting in the castle's ruddy kitchen, having a rest at the end of a long, tedious work day. Baldrick is peeling potatoes._

**Edmund:** Well Balders, chalk it up to another wasted day serving the pompous fat King and his hedonistic and equally vacuous wife. Put the kettle on will you? Coffee this time, I've grown tired of tea.

**Baldrick:** Tired of tea, my lord? But that's all we drink really, day in, day out.

**Edmund:** Not too quick on the uptake, are you. Vile stuff. I've been drinking it since I was a baby. I need a little variety.

**Baldrick:** Alright, coffee it is then, Mr. B. You know, I've heard they're coming out with some different kinds of tea these days. Sort of herby ones.

**Edmund:** Lovely. Put me right to sleep. Unfortunately, Baldrick, as loathsome as my existence in this castle is most of the time, I need to stay awake for it. Honestly, there's no other way to run an entire kingdom.

_Edmund leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. He picks up the newspaper and begins to skim the headlines without showing any real interest._

**Baldrick:** If you took a little before bedtime, you might get a better night's rest.

**Edmund:** _(looking up from his paper)_ I don't know which option is more contemptible, being tucked into bed with a steaming mug of grass-flavoured narcotic swamp-water or listening to fathead King George drone on and on and on about civil unrest in the colonies.

**Baldrick: **That's kind of important though, isn't it?

**Edmund:** _(with irritation)_ Of _course_ it's important, you primordial meathead. The King, however, is no more informed of the situation in the New World than the schlocks who write this xenophobic, mind numbing and fallacious drivel._ (He tosses the newspaper to the side in disgust)_ Looks like I'll have to sit in at one of those Parliament meetings in the morning if I want to hear the latest.

**Baldrick: **I guess you're taking the side of the colonists, then.

**Edmund:** Only because the King is such a prick.

**Baldrick:** That's not right, there's got to be some other reason, hasn't there?

**Edmund:** The colonists are being taxed up the backside. I wouldn't give one scruffy farthing if I didn't have hopes of fleeing to the Americas to escape thicky King George and this despicable palace life. Frankly, Baldrick, _(accepting a cup of sludgy brown water from his dogsbody)_ I'm tired of holding England afloat on my shoulders. When I only had Wales to deal with, the payoff was worth the effort. But only because I was cheating the Prince Regent out of great amounts of his royal cash. Now it's not so easy with that odious Queen Charlotte around.

**Baldrick:** I thought you said the Queen was an inane serving wench, made up like a peacock that was especially well-off, and that you would have thought it unheard of to find anybody dimmer than the Prince himself until you met that mouth-breathing tart.

**Edmund:** It was a long and difficult search to find His Royal Highness the perfect Queen.

**Baldrick:** So how's it any harder for you to make any money?

**Edmund:** Because, Baldrick, she spends it.

**Baldrick:** I see.

**Edmund:** Believe me, what she lacks in the way of an IQ, she more than compensates in the swiftness with which she'll plonk down a couple of hundred pound notes._ (Edmund sniffs cautiously at the mug and makes a face before putting it down)_ Massive amounts of money have gone into the Canadas. She's got so many furs, it's a surprise she doesn't hibernate for the winter.

**Baldrick:** I've always wanted to see the colonies. Everything all starting up new. My uncle Baldrick lives there. He sent me a letter. He says that every November, they eat a turkey. Like Christmas twice a year. I'd like to go visit him there.

**Edmund:** Well you're not coming with me, Baldrick. No, part of the reason I'd like to get out of here is your stench. It's so bad, if there was a competition between that smelly old crone from the ditch down the road, a leprous beggar wearing a suit of freshly digested pig tripe and _you_, the crone and the beggar would be packing their things so quickly you'd think they were escaping the wrath of an extremely angry... _(eyeing Baldrick threateningly)_ ...adder.

_Baldrick sniffs at himself and shrugs._

**Edmund:** No, you'll be quite safe here. I can't guarantee that if you come with me. I said coffee, by the way, not rancid bilge water.

**_Scene 2._**_ Edmund arrives back at the palace after a meeting of Parliament. He hangs his overcoat and tosses his hat unceremoniously onto the table._

**Baldrick:** Not much luck then, Mr. Blackadder?

**Edmund: **Can't even get it straight from the Parliament meeting. What are the qualifications for being an MP anyways? If you sleep late, show up rat-arsed, have breath like a privy and the IQ of a block of cheese, you're a shoe-n. Ever think of elevating yourself, Balders? This could be just the position for you.

_Edmund sits down once again on his ever-faithful chair, resting his heels on the table._

**Edmund:** God, it's pathetic. All of them. The whole meeting held about as much useful information as a Frenchman.

_Baldrick begins to shine Edmund's shoes, all the while listening silently to his musings._

**Edmund: **It's a miracle none of them lit up. I tell you, Baldrick, there was such a variety of extraneous gases in that room, we'd have been blown to smithereens. What a bunch of jumped up, red-faced sycophants. They bored me rigid.

_The bell mounted on the wall rings impatiently._

**Edmund: **King Clot shifts in his sleep. Have you got the breakfast ready?

**Baldrick:** Of course, Mr. Blackadder.

_Baldrick puts away the shoe-shining rag and offers Edmund a breakfast tray._

**Edmund:** Right. Off to feed that fat bastard and his stick-insect of a wife.

**_Scene 3._**_ Edmund is in the hallway outside King George's chambers. He knocks on the door._

**George: **Yes? What is it?

_Muffled giggles can be heard, and the distinctly female "Georgie, stop!"_

**Edmund:** _(rolling his eyes)_ You rang, sir.

**George: **Oh yes, that's right.

_Edmund again rolls his eyes at the sound of what most likely is a lamp smashing on the floor._

**Edmund:**_(uttering under his breath)_ Oh GOD. Would you like me to come back at a better time, sir?

**George: **Wouldn't hear of it. _(a quick shriek)_ WOOF WOOF!!! Ah, come on in, Bladders.

_Edmund takes a deep breath and enters the room. The King is lying confidently in his messed bed, wig askew, with the Queen._

**Edmund: **Good morning, Your Royal Majesties.

**George:** I say, Blackadder, what a lovely morning. Isn't it a lovely morning, my little piglet?

**Charlotte:** Oh yes, a lovely morning. I can hear the birds singing.

**Edmund:** I fear you cannot hear the birds singing because they are outside. Your curtains are drawn, your windows shut tight _(under his breath) _and you're half deaf anyways.

**Charlotte:** What?

**Edmund: **I said you're out of breath anyways. The panting, very loud.

**George:** WOOF WOOF!! _(slapping the Queen's behind)_

**Charlotte:** _(giggling obsequiously at King George)_ WOOF WOOF!!

_Edmund stands in silence, enduring this most painful display. He waits contemptibly as he waits for it to end._

**George:** Now, what's that you've got there. _(nodding towards the tray)_

**Edmund:** The breakfast you ordered, sir. Three eggs, scrambled. Mountain of potatoes, six rashers bacon, fried bread and tomato. A healthy start to the day.

**George:** _(clapping his hands together as Edmund places the tray over his lap)_Great. Brekkers. Hungry as a hippo, Bladders, and well deserving too.

**Edmund:**_ (serving the Queen)_ And for madam, half a grapefruit. Now, Your Majesties, I feel I must inform you. The civilians in the Americas are becoming more disgruntled with each passing day. It is getting to the point where we fear the military will not be enough to handle them.

**George:** _(shrugging)_Let's add another tax then, and build up the militia.

**Edmund:** You just don't get it, do you. The more you tax them, the more they want to cut off your head, put it on a stick and roast it in a bonfire.

**George:**_ (digging into his breakfast)_ Well, what do you suggest we do then?

**Edmund:** How about we cut some of their ridiculous taxes. Honestly. It's pathetic. If you want to wear socks, you pay taxes. If you want to have windows, you pay taxes. If you live on a farm, you pay taxes. If you want a cup of tea, you pay taxes. If you're caught with a hat and no tax receipt, god help you.

**George:**_ (defensively, chewing loudly)_ The Prime Minister didn't seem to think they were such a problem. In fact, he thought they were a great idea Blackadder.

**Edmund:** Frederick North, I'm afraid, is nothing but a lackey paid to say 'yes sir'. If you told him to jump off London Bridge, he'd think it was a great idea.

**George:** I'm King, Blackadder, and ol' Fredders is doing his job just as he should be. I do what _I_ want, and what _I_ think is best for my country and the west. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Blackie!

**Charlotte:** You tell him, Georgie!

**Edmund:** That only works if you're not an utter moron. _(enunciating slowly)_ Listen to me. Send me over to the Americas, and I will negotiate something that will keep the Americans from revolting.

**George:** How _dare_ you call my citizens revolting! You're revolting, you stupid slimy crappy butler.

**Edmund:**_ (sighs with frustration)_ No, they're _revolting_. The colonies will go up in arms against us if you keep it up. A committee has been formed in Massachusetts to take action against us. I don't know what kind of twaddle you've been told, but whatever it is, forget it. And listen to me. If you don't send me to the Americas to negotiate, if you don't get rid of these ridiculous taxes, you aren't going to have any Americas to call your own. Get it?

**George:** Well, fancy that. I thought they loved me.

**Edmund:** _(sighs with frustration)_ It's not the first time you've had that delusion, sir. And now it seems that your wife shares it. They love you about as much as they'd love horrible carbuncles on their bottoms.

**George:** _(scarfing down several spoonfuls of potatoes)_ Well, Blackadder, looks like you'll have to go over there and sort it out.

**Edmund:** How much will you pay me.

**George:** Two thousand pounds.

_Edmund is silent._

**George: **Three thousand.

_Edmund is still silent._

**George:** Ten thousand pounds.

**Edmund:** Deal.

**_Scene 4._**_ We hear the familiar sea-faring music from 'Potato'..._

_Edmund is strolling about the deck of the ship, shortly after it's pulled out of its port. Several ship's mates milling about the boat pulling ropes, shouting 'aye aye' from the top of the crow's nest, mopping, inspecting masts etc etc. A seagull flaps close about Edmund's head and as he smacks it away, it squawks and plunges towards the sea._

**Ship's mate #1:** _(More than a trace of upper class Brit can be heard beneath his stereotypically piratey accent) _Ahoy there, matey!

**Edmund:** What?

**Ship's mate #1:** _(slapping his thigh masculinely) _I said, Ahoy there, matey!

**Edmund:** _(rolling his eyes) _Oh god. I didn't know wet fish sailors like you really existed.

**Ship's mate #1:** I assure you we do, matey. (_stands proudly with his hands on his hips)_

**Edmund:** Stop saying that. You're not even a real sailor, are you? A real sailor wouldn't say "I assure you we do, matey", would he?

**Ship's mate #1:** _(blushing, and dropping the accent) _No, not as such, no.

**Edmund:** You've got the stereotype horribly wrong then, haven't you.

**Ship's mate #1:** This is my first trip.

**Edmund:** That's about as blatant as a hammer to the head. You're so green, you'd think that you originated from Baldrick's potty.

**Ship's mate #1:** Baldrick?

**Edmund:** Nevermind. _(craning his neck past Ship's mate #1, looking for a means of escape)_

**Ship's mate #1:** My great grandfather knew a Baldrick. He was the hired help of a Mr. Edmund Blackadder. Friend of his.

_Edmund, somewhat intrigued, arches an eyebrow at Ship's mate #1, remaining otherwise motionless._

**Ship's mate #1:** Ahh, yes. Good old great-grandfather Percy. He was a Member of Parliament when the Commonwealth overthrew Charles I. 

**Edmund:** An MP. 

**Ship's mate #1:** That's right. And what a great MP he was. _(leans back on the ship's railing, his curly hair lifting ever so slightly in the gentle breeze)_

**Edmund:** I think I can tell you with certainty that if your great-grandfather Percy was an MP, he was no friend to Mr. Blackadder.

**Ship's mate #1:** Oh, but he was! I have read his journals quite extensively. He was very fond of Mr. Blackadder. They were jolly old chums! 

**Edmund:** _I_ am a Mr. Edmund Blackadder. _I_ have read the writings of my ancestors back to the dark ages, and in every single one of them, his 'friend' Percy was no more of a friend than hungry piranha attached to his testicles would be. He was a rather delicate character and it doesn't surprise me one bit that his descendant has decided to try his hand at being a sailor_. _ Now scram, …_matey_, before I turn you inside out and feed your organs to a flock of hungry sea gulls.

_Edmund steps to the side to continue on past the ship's mate._

**Ship's mate #1:** Percy.

**Edmund:** _(stopping in his tracks)_ What?

**Ship's mate #1:** It's not matey, it's Percy.

**Edmund:** _(wrinkling his nose in distaste)_ Oh GOD.

**Percy:** Is there a problem, Mr. Blackadder?_ (catches a whiff, then wrinkles his nose as well)_

**Edmund: **No, Percy, for once it's not you. 

_Edmund begins to follow his nose with Percy close in tow. The unpleasant aroma leads him to a large crate on the port side of the ship. He lifts the lid and finds inside a dirty, smelly, monkey of a man curled up into a little ball._

**Edmund:** I knew I recognized that unbearable reek from somewhere. _(pulling Baldrick out by the collar)_ I thought I told you to stay at home, you nauseating little pubic louse.

_Baldrick grins nervously._

**_Scene 5. _**_(cello 'Potato' music)TWO MONTHS LATER..._

_Edmund is sitting in his cabin with a glass of whiskey. He is reading quietly when there is a knock on his door._

**Edmund:**_ (unamused)_ What is it?

_The door creaks open and Percy Percy pokes his ferret face through the crack._

**Percy:** I was wondering if you'd like some tea, my lord.

_Edmund looks vaguely irritated, but the expression on his face passes into that of forced gaiety._

**Edmund:** Come on in, Perce.

_Percy enters the room, an inane grin spread from ear to ear. The teacups on the tray rattle as the boat sways from side to side._

**Percy: **Thank you, Edmund! I've been waiting for so long to get to know-

**Edmund:** Let's not go on about that. _(wrapping his arm about Percy's shoulder, as only a true compadre would)_ It's been... what. Two months since we boarded this ramshackle, broken-down old tub?

**Percy:** I believe that is correct, sir. _(smiling widely, clearly very excited to be in the company of a certain Mr. Blackadder)_

**Edmund:** I feel that I have gotten to know you in the little daily exchanges we've shared.

**Percy:** _(blushing)_ Oh, Mr. Blackadder.

_Percy begins to sit down on the soft chair opposite Edmund's._

**Edmund:** No, Percy. Don't sit down.

**Percy:** Right. _(standing back up to his full height)_

**Edmund: **_(rising to join Percy) _Now, as I have said, I feel that I have learned a great number of things about you, Perce. For instance, your hair never ceases to look like an erratically bristled toilet brush no matter what side you part it.

**Percy:** _(blushing yet again)_ Thank you, Edmund.

**Edmund:** Don't call me that.

**Percy:** Sorry, Mr. Blackadder.

**Edmund: **Continuing on, I know that you have a very close relationship with your mother.

**Percy:** How did you know that?

**Edmund:** Because, Percy, I can see the collection of oil paintings and ham-fisted sculptures that you've created in her most unfortunate likeness.

**Percy:** _(sighing wistfully) _That's good old mummy.

**Edmund:** So tell me: how's it possible for me to know the tedium that makes up your pitiful and wasted existence on this planet, and you _still_ haven't come to grasp the very simple premise that I find the tea on this ship, and in fact everywhere else to be so foul, you'd think it had been steeped in a particularly filthy water closet?

_Percy thinks for a moment, trying to form a sentence, having been thoroughly stumped. Edmund lifts a cup from the tray, and splashes its no longer boiling contents onto Percy's face before gripping him by the shoulders, twirling him around in circles until he becomes dizzy, and finally kicking his backside out the door._

**Edmund:** _(slamming the door, collapsing onto his chair and raising his glass)_ Ahh. Now for some peace and quiet.

_A knock his heard on Edmund's cabin door._

**Edmund:** I told you to go away, you unpleasant little ditch rat.

**Baldrick:** _(muffled, through the door)_ It's me, Baldrick, my lord.

**Edmund:** Well, I find your company to be just as unpleasant and you _do_ have striking similarities to a ditch rat. So sod off.

**Baldrick:** I was just letting you know sir - do you mind if I stick my head through a crack in the door?

**Edmund:** Fine, go ahead. But please do your best not to breathe. I'm directly downwind of what could only be described as comparable to the stench of the thousands of rotting bodies littering the battlefield of Culloden.

**Baldrick: **But I can't talk or live without breathing, sir.

**Edmund:** And that's a terrible shame.

_Baldrick is silent. Edmund listens for a moment, smiles at the quiet, then sips his drink with self-satisfaction before again opening his book, "The Wealth of Nations"._

_Baldrick bravely slips through the crack in the door, holding his arms defensively over his head._

**Baldrick: **We have arrived in the Americas, Mr. Blackadder!

_Baldrick scampers out hastily to avoid a flogging. Edmund claps the pages of his book together and downs the last of his whiskey._

**Edmund:** _(tossing the book out a porthole) _Good riddance, Adam Smith, you're a load of crap anyways. 


End file.
